


And The Adventures Continue

by thisneedsaname



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comedy, Multi, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisneedsaname/pseuds/thisneedsaname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four (in)famous troublemakers keep getting themselves into laughable situations. They go through the ups and downs of life together, positive everything has to work out for them eventually.</p>
<p>But until then, they're going to keep living it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Adventures Continue

**Author's Note:**

> more reader works???????? who woulda guessed

“Honestly, [Y/N], how _do_ you put up with those three?” Hungary asked in slight bewilderment, slight awe; the other girls at your “girls’ night out” sleepover either shook their heads solemnly or shot you questioning looks. Of course, they were talking about the rather infamous bad friends trio, of which consisted Spain, Prussia, and France. 

You shrugged, and around a mouthful of popcorn managed to—with minimum spitting everywhere, not that anyone cared _that much_ —answer with an un-perplexed tone, “They’re not that bad…mostly. If I’m gonna be real with you girls—and I will—, I’m probably more of an inconvenience to them than they are to me.” 

“Bullshit,” Belgium blurted out, receiving a glare from a certain Belarusian for swearing in front of not only her sister, but also little Liechtenstein—whose older brother would have no problems treating them like he did France and North Italy—but she really paid no mind to the pale woman. “Those three are manageable—and nothing more—on their own, but together they’re a nightmare! You’re nowhere near as bad as them! Though you do have your faults…” the Belgian smartly decided to trail off instead of finishing that, and you rolled your eyes at her. 

“I don’t know guys, I think they’re fine on their own!” Seychelles piped up, and you wished they’d drop this topic. You came here to be with girls, and chill with girls, not talk about your guy friends! At the very least, they could be talking about how damn attractive some of the guys were, but _nooooooo!_

So what did you think of them? Well, it was simple! They were your best friends! Who you sometimes admittedly fooled around with, no big deal. The four of you were quite well-known, after all, for having multiple love “affairs”. They weren’t really affairs, because you had no commitment. No boyfriend/girlfriend was waiting for any of you back home, and there weren’t any countries that really did have relationships. At least not 100% closed relationships, such in the case of Spain and Seychelles, Hungary and Austria (and Prussia, their poly relationship was probably the most famous), or England and France. 

In fact, most of the above mentioned countries had things with _many_ countries. Everyone who participated was happy, so who really cared? Not you, that’s for sure. However, without relationships to gossip about (as much), that left personalities and personalities alone to get your fill from. 

“Sey, you only think that because you and Spain-“ Belgium started, but Hungary cut her off with a laugh.

“Please, Belgium, we all know you have it for Spain _and_ France, just like her!” 

You giggled with the others; even Belarus allowed herself a small smile at the playfulness between the two.

“Oh sure, but we all know the real drama is with you and those two German countries!” Belgium teased back, and when Liechtenstein piped up for the first time, it took only a second before everyone was guffawing and holding their sides from the pain.

“But we all know the real lovebirds are you two, am I wrong?” as if to prove Liechtenstein’s point, Belgium ~~over~~ dramatically fell into Hungary’s lap, going on about how, “Your eyes sparkle like the sky when it meets the greenish sea off the coast of Hawaii~!” 

“I don’t think Hawaii’s water is green, but nice try. As a reward, you get a single date!” Hungary replied, pushing her off and rolling onto her side to stop the persistent Belgian from trying to jump on her again. 

You were going to comment about how Belgium actually said green _ish_ water, but with most of the countries now preoccupied with wrestling each other, you opted it was better to just sit and watch in mild amusement, and a warm feeling of content. You lay down beside Ukraine, as the slightly older (way bustier) woman watched all the shenanigans unfold. Across the room, Belarus watched over Liechtenstein protectively while the smaller nation tried to get some rest. 

 

It was a few days after your girls’ night out and unfortunately for everyone, it was once again Monday. You trudged into the meeting room, daring anyone to talk to you with your disheveled hair and dark bags under your eyes. You were all set and 100% on board with murder at this point, all it would take is one asshole’s asshole comment and there’d be a bloodbath, you swore on it. 

“Whoa, [Y/N], you’re looking pretty dead today, and not in the usual cute way!” a certain asshole Prussian decided to yell in your ear, slinging his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer to his chest as he laughed his weird ass rattlesnake laugh. 

You fixed him with a glare that should you have been some sort of mystical being (and not just a lowly personification) it would’ve made him drop dead. The look on his face told you that much, but he still refused to drop his arm. You rolled your eyes, content that he had stopped yelling/laughing at the very least. 

“Where are the other two hoodlums?” you began, nervously casting a glance all around you, “I mean, I’d much rather they be off bugging some other poor saps, but the small good bone in my body is telling me I’m the most equipped to dealing you guys.” He faked an offended look, shaking you slightly until you gave him another glare—milder though, than the first. 

“Who knows, pretty sure Frenchie is off harassing the English bastard, and Spain’s probably bugging the Italian brothers…” the way he trailed off suggested to you that he thought that was a good idea, so in the most childish way you could you pouted and looked up at him, “What’s with that look? Li’l ol’ me just ain’t good enough for ya?” you teased, keeping your pout and crossing your arms for that extra special effect. 

You half expected him to push you away (the other half figured he’d snake his arms around your waist and say something stupid that still made you want to ~~jump his bones~~ kiss his dumb face) but instead he just sent you a shocked look, “How did you know? I thought I was hiding it so well! That damn French bastard must’ve told you, he’s always been scheming against me!” as Prussia went on with his tirade, he left your side to flail his arms about as he continued on and on. You stopped listening and just quirked an eyebrow at him, the both of you garnering a significant amount of attention. You internally groaned. 

Instead, a different pair of arms snaked their way around your waist, pulling you flush against _someone’s_ chest. You didn’t feel anyone nuzzling your cheek/neck/head, so you doubted it was Spain, and that made the culprit none other than…

France. 

You would be the ~~last~~ first to admit that you enjoyed his company a lot (unless he was around, smug bastard didn’t need that ego boost), but that didn’t stop you from biting out a, “What the fuck do you want, Francis?” letting him know by using his human name—which you honestly didn’t think more “intimate” than his country one—just how not in the mood for bullshit you were. 

“ _Mon amie_ , you wound me, as if my implications were any less than pure...!” he cooed, tightening his hold around your waist, you still staring at Prussia while he caused a scene. 

“However, our good pal _Prusse_ over there seems to have some other ideas on how the day should go.” You had to agree, the only thing that could make this worse would be if a certain way too optimistic-

Nope, there he was, squeezing the life out of both you and France. Predictable bastard. 

“Is anything actually going to get done at this meeting…?” unfortunately, you and Germany both knew the answer to that one (even before America startled prattling on about being the hero around—not really around, more like through—mouthfuls of fast food). 

 

At least now everyone was sitting, though you couldn’t say how long things would stay that way. You knew for a fact smaller/younger countries wandered off to explore the building and all its attachments while Germany was preoccupied. Another thing you found odd about this meeting was it wasn’t set up in geographical terms, like most of the ones before it. Maybe whoever was hosting—what was his name…was it America? No wait, it was France’s and England’s “shared” colony, little Canadia!—hated the geographical seating as much as America did. You wouldn’t have minded too much, however Spain and France were both near the Italian brothers—Seborga wasn’t with them, probably playing with the other micro-nations—which only spelled trouble, and Prussia, the constant pain in your ass, was sitting near Hungary and America, with Denmark not too far from them. Really, did Canadia even think this through or did he just want this whole thing to be complete mayhem (not that you were pissed you were sitting between Switzerland and his precious baby sister, or anything. In fact, you’d say you were closer to pissing yourself in fear rather than anger, fucking Canadia ruining your shit). 

To start everyone off, Russia stood up smiling his usual smile. It didn’t really bother you, and you doubted it bothered anyone else as much as they acted it did. You figured it was all a ruse to keep the somewhat sweet hearted nation happy, seeing as how he liked to be intimidating, just not feared. Back to the point, he began talking somewhat excitedly about something or other. You weren’t really paying attention, and when it came to your turn to present you’d probably just spout some bullshit about how to stop global warming, taking America’s shtick from him. 

Poor bastard. 

 

“You should’ve seen his face!” Prussia laughed with you later at the bar, downing his drink at record speed directly after. You, slightly buzzed and definitely feeling the party, laughed with him. 

“I did! Shit, he was so mad at me for pulling that, what a fucking loser!” unbeknownst (actually completely knownst) to your little quartet of alcohol consuming trouble makers, the person of interest was sitting literally right behind you. Of course, the two of you—with Spain and France sharing sidelong glances with each other on the other side of the relatively well furnished table—had to talk about the events at the meeting, but mostly the hilarious part where you made everyone in the entire room go silent, save for the trio’s snickering, America fixing you with a glare that rivaled Sweden’s. 

_Liechtenstein had just taken her seat, meaning it was your turn to humiliate yourself in front of rather judgmental nations. You shuffled your papers professionally, clearing your throat that let everyone know what you were really planning. Even famous-for-not-sensing-the-atmosphere Spain could figure out what was going on, and though America didn’t know, he knew something was amiss, but what could a “relatively” harmless nation such as you really do?  
“As many of you are aware, global warming has become an increasing epidemic in not only our society, but our very well-being! I’m sure my more northern (and very, very southern) countries will agree with me when I say it is affecting us just as much as the animals and environment. As countries, it is our job to suggest (you put a lot of emphasis on that word so no one would get hurt) to our rulers/bosses better ways to achieve a stable as we can get it environment. If anyone has any ideas at this point, please write them in to me, and I’ll discuss them at our next meeting. Thank you, {C/N} out.” _

_Boy, was America ever going to get you back, you could’ve picked any number of problems, but you had to pick the one that he prided himself on trying to fix more diligently than the others._

Sitting behind you, still bitter and not liking being mocked by you three for something that he was rightly upset about, was America himself. He was with Canadia, England, and one of Canadia’s little friends, Netherlands. America was unimpressed, felt humiliated in front of his baby brother and former older brother/caretaker, as well as someone he didn’t talk to as much. To add to that, he was drunk, angry, not liking being teased and really fucking strong. Somehow you managed to forget all that, partying it up with your three best friends in the whole world (haha get it, you’re fuckin’ comedy GOLD up in here). 

“Yo, [Y/N], what was that you said about me?” the tone was definitely not his usual, and that’s probably what sent the shivers that made your back and shoulders tense up so quickly. His tone _never_ changed, even when he was arguing with England and France! 

Slowly, you eased your head to look straight into his eyes, hoping to see some playfulness there. Too bad for you, because fate hates you, all you saw was a drunken rage burning in the otherwise cool blues. Shit. 

“Uhhhh…he was so mad at me for pulling that?” you tried, already knowing you’d fail miserably. Luckily for you, the brilliant (seriously, you could kiss him, and you probably would’ve if you weren’t afraid for your life) Spaniard had managed to find a backdoor escape that America wasn’t blocking you from, due to the blonde’s anger definitely focused on you. Seriously, he was so intent on scaring the crap out of you—he’d be pleased to know it worked really well—that he didn’t notice Spain climb over a confused looking France, walk down the aisle and up to the bar, asking the bartender if there was any back door. Nor did he notice the bartender point in the opposite direction of America, giving instruction on how to get to it quicker. Straight down, left turn, a little farther down that “secret hall” (it was where all the bathrooms were located) and out the fourth door on your right. 

When Prussia tapped your arm in the age old “Let’s get the fuck out of here while we still have legs to run on” way, you didn’t hesitate at all before launching yourself over the table of your booth, Prussia following suite as Spain and France simply slipped out of the booth seats opposite you and started running. You shouted apologies to the countries’ whose meals you had disturbed, while France and Spain threw a lot more money than you owed at the bartender in their own sort of apology. 

Taking a sharp left—slamming into the wall only to right yourself very quickly as Prussia turned around to yank on your arm, the pissed American hot on your tails—and following the hall down, you in the very back, Spain in the front and France and Prussia in-between you two. Of course, since this was the hall where the bathrooms were, you weren’t surprised to see someone exiting the bathroom. What you were surprised about is that France couldn’t stop in time, and neither could Prussia or you apparently. 

Soon enough there was a pile of four countries, you on the top with the poor Estonia who just wanted to go to the bathroom on the bottom. Spain skidded to a halt, turning around to try and drag you guys onto your feet before America caught up to you—which he was very close to doing.

The second you were up, you yanked Prussia up too, and then began running past Spain, only to pause because you didn’t know where you were going. By that point all three of them were up—Estonia staring at you guys in confusion, before he turned and saw the barrelling American, at which point he quickly escaped back to the bathroom to avoid further damage—and running past you, you taking your spot at the back once again. 

The sharp—what was it with this bar and its horrible for getaways layout?—turn to get out the fourth door on your right hardly affected you guys, and the second you burst out you all began laughing and screaming and running like hooligans. 

America stopped a little ways outside, huffing in anger and loss of breath. With his air turning into clouds and billowing out around him, he really did look like a bull who had just charged the rodeo goers. You only spared him a single glance back, coupled with a wink and a blown kiss, before you were racing to keep up with the adrenaline fueled losers ahead of you, whooping and hollering into the night like teenagers sneaking out for the first time. 

 

You had to admit, running and jumping on the tables to escape an enraged America was probably the highlight of your night, and something you wouldn’t mind telling over and over again. it was probably one of the coolest stories you had, right up there with that time you guys flooded the meeting room in your home country, or the time you had to escape from an enraged and rather deadly Seychelles after you locked a live shark in her backyard ocean/pool thing (seriously what was that?). Yeah, you could say you guys had some crazy adventures together. In fact, you did say that, you said it all the time. It was one of the many reasons you loved hanging with them ~~one of the others being how damn _good_ they were~~. 

However, now that the adventure was over, you found yourself splayed out and all tangled up with the guys, watching some shitty horror movie, because honestly who watched good horror movies when you were fucking around with your friends? You wiggled your toes experimentally, but it seemed that with one leg pinned under France’s legs and the other under Prussia’s, your legs had fallen asleep. Your arms weren’t your own either, with one hand holding Spain’s and the other idly switching between playing with France’s hair and Prussia’s, your head lying on the Spaniard’s stomach (so were Prussia and France’ heads, actually). France was playing with Spain’s hair, and Spain was—with his other hand—playing with yours.

Yes, you four were probably the definition of a no boundaries friendship, and that’s how you liked it. It was so much more fun this way for you, and you got to have some of the craziest adventures because of it! No jealousy, no hate (especially none of that bullshit hating other girls just for being girls/liking the trio), but enough drama to keep you on your toes and having a good time. 

Excitement was a necessity for you, just as it was for Spain, France and Prussia! You guys could have your calm moments, sure—everyone needed some—but for the most part you’d much rather get into a bar fight (France and Spain often had to drag you and Prussia off each other during those, because both of you were too stubborn to let the other win) than laze about. That was the kind of lifestyle you lived! 

“Psst, hey, [Y/N],” Prussia said, distracting you from your inner monologue (which you did a lot of, apparently. You should work on that), “I have a challenge for you,” he continued, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.

Not one to turn down any challenge, you grinned, “Oh yeah? What’s that my sweet little Prussia?” he flicked your wrist playfully, before answering with a simple, “Bet you can’t sneak into West’s house and steal us a pair of his boxers.”   
Just what was that funny little man planning? Regardless, you kept your grin as you accepted his challenge, “Oh Prussia, ye have little faith…” 

 

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of Germany’s house, the trio on the other side of the street watching you with a) a quirked eyebrow b) an unfazed smile, or c) a shit eating smirk. Fine by you, there was no way you’d back out! Cautiously approaching his house, you remembered that he had three dogs, and hatched a semi-evil plan. 

Turning around, you gestured for France to approach, and when Prussia went to protest Spain reminded him there was no rule about you doing it _alone_. You just needed to be in the house without them, so if France stayed outside you were golden. Prussia pouted, but let France go to assist you with no more protest.

When France got beside you, a little ways from the front door, you told him to knock. He stared at you for a second, raising his eyebrows—they were really nice the more you looked at them—as a gesture for you to explain.

“Okay so, Germany has dogs right? And chances are Italy is sleeping over, so if you knock and wake the dogs up, they’ll be so busy barking at you that they won’t give two shits about me sneaking in through the basement window I know for a fact Germany doesn’t lock for Italy. That also takes care of Germany, because he’ll go downstairs to see you and you have to distract him. If Italy realizes it’s you down here, he’ll want to see you too, so that also takes care of him. While you distract them, I sneak into his room, take his boxers, and jump out the second story window!” you shout whispered, already feeling the adrenaline going. If you had been a normal human, you’d never be able to jump out the second story, but since you weren’t you were perfectly fine. 

France nodded, and you disappeared around the house to the location of the window. You’re glad he didn’t ask you how you knew about it, because that was a story for a different time…

You didn’t hear France knocking, but you _did_ hear the dogs going wild and their claws clattering in the direction of the main entrance. You slipped the window open, sliding through and dropping to the couch directly below it. As an act of courtesy, you reclosed the window, before continuing halfway up the basement stairs, eagerly waiting for Germany’s footsteps. 

When you heard his grumbling and the unmistakable thudding of a very large, very buff German guy walking down the stairs, and then past the basement door, you eased yourself out of the basement, opening the door as quietly as possible. You needed to hurry or the whole thing would go to hell. 

Quiet as a mouse, you crept up the stairs and down the hall until you were face to face with Germany’s bedroom door. You’d been here enough times to know it by memory, and now your only concern was the Italian who was probably in the room. You pressed your ear against the door, but after a few moments of not hearing anything and realizing you couldn’t stand around wasting time, you creeped into the room, watching a shaking Italian cower under the covers. 

Oh, that wasn’t so bad after all. You snuck by the bed and over to the dresser, opening the third drawer down, coming face to face with Germany’s underwear drawer. Smirking, you grabbed the first one you saw—it had a patch in it, guess Austria still had some influence over him—and closed the drawer again, sneaking back outside the room and into the hall once again. In front of you was a small window, one you could still squeeze your way through. You opened it, and upon hearing Germany’s ascending footsteps jumped out with little hesitation. Safely below, you heard him slam the window shut before you took off to meet up with the rest of your quartet, holding your prize tight to your chest. 

When you made it back to them—France was already there—the four of you took off back in the direction of your apartment, throwing the boxers at each other in a sort of celebration. You were sure to mock the Prussian greatly for thinking you couldn’t complete the mission, and he just laughed right back at you, teasing you about stealing his “little _bruder’s_ underwear” but you simply waved the boxers in the air like a victory flag.

It seemed wherever you four went, trouble was sure to follow…


End file.
